


Matters of Blood and Connection

by apatternedfever



Category: Sanctuary (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Pre-show, for some special definition of relationship, in a vampiric context, minor Bloodplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-05
Updated: 2013-03-05
Packaged: 2017-12-04 10:04:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/709536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apatternedfever/pseuds/apatternedfever
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One stressful night in the lab, James and Nikola turn to a familiar pattern to calm their minds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Matters of Blood and Connection

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Porn Battle XIII, for the prompts machinery and blood. Not that it actually is porn so much as foreplay.

Seventy years they've known each other now, and of course a comfort is going to spring out of that. Oh, they still snipe at each other, they're still as eager to latch on to one another's mistakes as they were back in their school days, their occasional fights still come and their words are still daggers when they do, carefully aimed where it will hurt the most -- very often, to watch the two of them speak, one may get the impression they don't like each other at all.

The wrong impression, but James can see where an outsider would come away with it.

Not that they're observed by outsiders anymore. Not since Nikola's 'death' -- and they weren't fond of having an audience while they worked before that, either. No, the lab Nikola visits when he comes to James -- for help, for a relief from boredom, simply to check up on him or let James know he's alive, not that they ever admit to their reasons for getting together in the last case -- is hidden down a quiet corridor in the Sanctuary. The locks are impossible for anyone else to get through -- they set up the security themselves, and when they put their minds to a task together, they are formidable -- and James has made sure there is no reason for someone to try to disturb him, here. Nikola, for his part, is good enough at avoiding the Sanctuary's security personnel and staff that James is grudgingly impressed. He knows the routes he takes and the ways he does it, of course, but still, to never be caught, even once, is an achievement, considering how well James knows his staff is trained.

Here in this lab, and the sleeping quarters that have been made out of what was the unused office next to it, with one of his oldest friends, James always relaxes, whether he means to or not. It's only around Nikola lately, with Helen's contact so scarce, that James finds himself letting go of the need to be in charge, finds his hands no longer folded across the vulnerable machine that keeps him moving when Nikola brushes by. 

Here with one of the last men that understands the manners and customs he keeps himself to, James allows himself to drop into informality.

Fourteen hours in the lab, both working on the same project, and James has his shirt half-open now, the soft noises of the machine loud in the near-silence. Nikola's footsteps as he paces and the occasional soft scratch of chalk or pens are the only other noises in the room. Those moments of trying inevitably come to nothing, and James returns to his place, leaning back against a table, and Nikola returns to his pacing, both distracted with their own thoughts.They're both lost in the work, too busy trying to unravel one of the first real challenges they've had in years to even snipe at each other as usual.

A pity, because sometimes sniping leads to answers, but the tension is too tight in the room and the silence has been going on too long for James to be able to think of how to break it now.

Out of the corner of his eye, he gives Nikola a concerned glance. He's not the only one doing it; he feels his friend's eyes on him now and again, when the machine grows particularly loud, when he starts shifting in his spot.

They wouldn't say it, but they worry about each other. They care for each other. If they didn't, they wouldn't be seeing each other, even once every few years. There's no need not to say it, both of them are aware of it, but that's not how they work. Instead they keep to covert glances and the eventual disguised attempt to break the other's tension.

Sometimes it's Nikola who breaks first, ushering James into a chair with a casual snap about how he can't hear himself thinking over the machine strapped to James' chest, how " _I know I'm exciting but please, James, control yourself_ ". Sometimes he'll throw out another problem, an easier one, to calm James' racing mind. Or else he'll push James towards the bedroom, remind him that he's an old man now and needs his rest, and they'll sit there in companionable silence and share a bottle of wine until some stroke of brilliance hits one of them, or one of them really does fall asleep.

Not today. Today Nikola's footsteps slowly gathering speed is enough to spur James into action, and he moves towards the door, towards the small knife he keeps there for just these occasions.

"You're driving me mad with your pacing," is his hasty excuse that neither of them will believe as he slices a neat cut into his palm. "Here, keep yourself still for a minute."

The blood isn't necessary -- James always checks that Nikola is taking his remedy before he so much as steps into the lab, and that gives him all he needs -- but it calms him, soothes him. Long ago, not long after the five of them first worked out Nikola's cure, they had both given over to curiosity, and he'd allowed Nikola to feed off of him. In the years since, James has often taken advantage of how a bleeding hand thrust towards him distracts Nikola from all else, the way it lets his expression fall into peaceful blankness even after the black has faded from his eyes. Sometimes it's frustration that drives him to take advantage of it, and sometimes it's worry, but whatever his reasons, the effect is always the same.

Nikola gives him a brief, sidelong look as he approaches, as if to ask if he's sure, but his eyes are already going black and his nails are lengthening, and James only keeps his hand held out to promise that it's all right. It's all he needs to do; it's barely a moment later that Nikola is latched onto the wound. James closes his eyes, purposefully letting the tension out of his shoulders and leaning in towards the vampire. He no longer fears Nikola, not after doing this so long and never having it go wrong, only having it come close a handful of times. It's become an odd sort of comfort, even, a moment of peace for him as well -- he lets his mind fill with the sensation as Nikola sucks at the wound, always careful with his fangs, and lets it drive away as much of the bustle of his brain as it can.

He opens his eyes when he feels the nails recede on the hand carefully holding his arm, but Nikola doesn't move, not yet. His mouth is still sealed over the wound on James' palm, though it's nearly stopped bleeding now -- he knows just how deep to cut by now to keep from bleeding too much and tempting Nikola badly enough to make him lose control.

"Better?" he asks lightly, and Nikola lifts his head, but he doesn't let go of James' arm, the other hand coming up to curl around his wrist.

"Much," Nikola agrees, smiling, but it's not just calm in his eyes now.

This isn't an unusual response either, even if it's not the most common one. There are days when the blood isn't enough to keep the restlessness away. Just like there are days where, try as he might, James can't get his mind to calm, and he needs something to distract it. He understands, he knows what Nikola needs, what, if he's going to be honest, James could use himself right now.

He smiles, an encouragement, and Nikola lowers his head again, brushing a kiss against James' palm before tugging lightly on his arm.

"Time for a break," he declares, moving closer until he's well into James' personal space, their legs brushing when either of them shifts. James straightens up and off the table he's leaning against, bringing himself closer still as he does. Half a step more and they'll be pressed together.

"Shall we retire for the night?" he suggests, though he doubts it will be the whole night. He may sleep -- he is mostly human, after all, and he still needs his rest -- but Nikola rarely does, afterward. More likely he'll break into the wine until James has dropped off, and by the time he wakes again, Nikola will have returned to the problem at hand.

Nikola doesn't answer. He leans forward that last, short distance instead, pressing a kiss to James' mouth, dropping his arm and settling a hand against his hip instead. James responds without hesitation, a hand moving up to spread against Nikola's side, the other settling at the small of his back.

Kissing Nikola is not like kissing anyone else, not even Helen, who may be his equal in nearly everything (and sometimes his better), but is still a woman when all is said and done. He feels compelled to be gentle with her, to cede control before the battle can begin, and with any others he's taken to his bed, there's never been a question as to who's in the lead.

With Nikola, even a kiss is a struggle, at least at first, at least till they find their way to a bed and working together becomes preferable to fighting. It's a harsh pressure against his lips, fingers digging into him through his clothes, a last step forward and Nikola pressing him back. It's a hard nip, hard enough to draw blood, and James pulls back immediately at the taste of it.

"Nikola," he cautions, but when he looks, Nikola's eyes are still his own.

"I'm in control," he assures, and after a moment's careful study, James can't see any evidence to the contrary. So he moves in, not waiting for Nikola to come back to him, standing his ground as Nikola presses in against him. The machine digs in through the thin material below it, and Nikola licks the blood from his lips with a pleased noise, as if it's the finest wine, or the richest chocolate.

"Inside," James reminds him, shoving lightly against Nikola's ribs.

"In a moment," Nikola argues, and takes advantage of James' attempt to reply to kiss him again, to explore his open mouth. James laughs, but he doesn't pull away, not until Nikola's hands are both on his hips and trying to pull him in closer.

" _Now_ , Nikola," he insists, and he doesn't bother to hide the want in his voice, pressed close together as they are, familiar as this pattern is. 

"Fine," Nikola agrees, sucking at his lower lip before he lets go with one last nip. It's sharper than James thinks he meant it to be -- a little loss of control, not of the vampire, but of the man -- and he tastes blood as he lets Nikola lead him to the door.

While Nikola's back is to him, James allows himself a smile at the taste.


End file.
